


Bogies, blankets, and Bilbo Baggins

by ThePinkFizz



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Adorkable, Arguing, Awkwardness, Banter, Blanket Fic, Caretaking, Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Doctor Who References, Double sickfic, Drabble, First Kiss, M/M, Phan Fluff, Sick Character, Sick Dan, Sickfic, Sleepy Kisses, Tea, The Hobbit References, Toast, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, complaining, sick phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:06:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9293621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePinkFizz/pseuds/ThePinkFizz
Summary: During a particularly frigid spell in January, Dan and Phil both wake to find that they've both inherited some kind of flu. Now, Dan is grumpier than ever and Phil just wants someone to make him tea. Can they both muddle through the sickness and take care of each other?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Basically, this was the result of me being bored, plus I can't resist writing sickfics! (I hope that's not some kind of weird fetish...*grudge face*) Anyway, I find Dan and Phil so adorkable and thought it would be fun to write them for a change. Lemme know what you think in the comments below, and remember, kudos are always appreciated! <3 PF

_“Dan!”_

Phil’s voice came from the hallway, pulling Dan from sleep. He made to push himself up some, but decided it was too much effort and collapsed back into his pillow. The door to his bedroom opened, and in barged Phil, wrapped up so tightly in a blanket that he waddled like a penguin.

_“Dan…”_

He whined.

_“I don’t feel good.”_

Dan waved his hand at Phil, brushing his remark off.

“Go back to bed. I’m not your blinking mother.”

_“But Daaaannnn…”_

Phil whined.

_“Who’s going to make me tea?”_

He was leaning over the side of Dan’s bed, his lips pushed out in a pout. The younger boy cracked open an eye, giving Phil his best death-glare.

“Make your own tea, you clot!”

Phil huffed.

_“You’re such a grouch.”_

Dan sighed, sitting up in bed, groaning. He stilled before letting out a massive sneeze, feeling the pressure settle behind his eyes and in his left ear.

“Phil…”

Phil was coughing so hard that Dan thought he might fall over.

“About that tea…”

Dan swung his feet over the side of his bed, gingerly placing his feet on the floor.

“Agh! That’s cold!”

He ripped the microfiber blanket off of his bed, adopting Phil’s waddling technique as he made his way into the kitchen. He threw the kettle on the stove with an audible _clank_. Both boys stood in the kitchen, looking miserable.  

Phil looked to be falling asleep standing up while Dan wrapped himself up tighter in his blanket, angrily grumbling as he marched to the thermostat, punching the screen with purpose until he achieved a satisfactory temperature for the flat.

The kettle began screaming, apparently, starling Phil, who Dan found wrapped in his Peppermint Butler blanket on the floor.

“What are you doing down there?”

_“I fell over.”_

“What you fell over for?”

_“I didn’t do it on purpose! Stupid kettle…”_

Phil muttered, climbing up Dan in order to stand once again. The younger boy sighed, pulling two random mugs out of the cupboard, a Lady Rainicorn one and a temperature-changing TARDIS appearing/disappearing one.

Dan thrust the creepily bent unicorn-handled mug at Phil, holding his steaming mug of tea underneath his nose in a fruitless attempt to unstuff his head. He had enormous bags underneath his eyes that, coupled with the grumpy way he was holding his mug, made him look like an overly-used internet meme.

Phil took his mug and waddled into the lounge, trying to figure out a way to sit whilst keeping his body wrapped like a burrito in his blanket without spilling his tea. Dan made a grudge sound, plodding down the hallway.

Phil, who had figured out a way to maintain his human burrito status, looked in the direction of the bathroom where, he assumed, Dan was rifling through the cabinet for cold medicine.

Judging by his unhappy-sounding moan, Phil guessed he was unsuccessful in his quest.

_“What’s wrong?”_

He called, his throat scratchy.

“What the hell happened to all of the Dayquil?!”

Phil looked guiltily at the floor, not responding.

“Phil?!”

_“How should I know?!”_

All this yelling had the older boy coughing like mad, the shaking of his body disheveling his fringe.

_“Why don’t you run to the chemist?”_

Dan emerged from the bathroom, his hooded eyes narrowed even further.

“Do I _look_ like I am in _any mood_ to run to the chemist?”

_“Fine.”_

Phil replied stuffily.

_“Be miserable.”_

“I will, thank you very much.”

Dan plopped into one of the arm chairs, all appendages hanging droopily. Phil shifted around on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

_“You’re very sassy when you’re ill.”_

Dan replied to that with a snooty look, slurping his tea.

* * *

 

Phil braved his way through the mountains of tissues to the bathroom, where he began half-heartedly banging on the door.

_“Dan! Open the door! I need to go!”_

He narrowed his eyes slightly, hearing an odd sound from inside.

_“Dan? What are you doing in there?”_

Phil half shut his eyes as he opened the door, gaping at the sight before him. He had to wave his hand in front of his face as a cloud of steam billowed from within the room. Phil coughed.

Dan was sitting on the floor of the shower, clothes and all, getting soaked with what appeared to be an excruciatingly hot shower spray.

_“Dan!”_

“Just five more minutes…”

Phil managed to scoff.

_“Are you seriously sleeping right now?”_

“No,”

Dan replied sleepily.

_“Well get out then! I need to wee!”_

Phil had his hands clamped between his thighs, hopping from foot to foot. Dan sighed, standing, turning off the taps.

“Alright. I’m going, I’m going.”

_“So am I if you don’t get moving!”_

Dan was startled slightly by Phil’s abrupt door slamming as he stood dripping in the middle of the corridor. He trudged to his bedroom, finding clothes only by the soft glow of his fairy lights, reappearing in a horribly matched pair of maroon sweatpants and a yucky yellow jumper. Dan was too tired to be concerned with his fashion at this point. He plodded back to the lounge, going boneless as he fell into the sofa.

Phil returned to the lounge as well, eyeing Dan suspiciously for a moment.

_“What happened to your blanket?”_

Dan shrugged from his half sitting, half laying down position on the couch.

“I dunno. It must’ve gotten sucked up in this black hole that we call a flat.”

Phil shook his head, trudging past the couch into the kitchen where he stayed for a few minutes.

_“I made toast, do you want some?”_

He called. Dan perked up slightly at the thought of food.

“Do we have marmalade?”

Phil came back with two plates, handing Dan one as he stooped, dropping Dan’s discarded blanket on his head.

_“Must be a wormhole popped up and spat out your blanket.”_

Dan growled slightly, but grouchily wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.

Phil stiffly reached for the tele remote, flicking through their Netflix. Dan shifted positions on the couch, tipping over, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder.

Phil settled on an older episode of _Doctor Who_ featuring David Tennant.

“Now look at that fringe,”

Dan said, gesturing lazily towards the television.

“That is fringe goals.”

Phil laughed a little before he began coughing. Dan looked up at him, borderline concerned. He mustered up the strength to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen, returning to hand it off to Phil.

_“Thanks,”_

He rasped.

“’Course,”

Dan replied, pecking the older boy on the cheek. Dan suddenly realized that he had never done that before and slunk down into the sofa, embarrassed.

“That never happened,”

Dan started.

_“It was…mildly pleasant.”_

Phil began.

_“Maybe…maybe we could try that again when you don’t have snot dripping from all of your orifices.”_

“That just sounds so enticing.”

Dan spoke drily, but offered Phil a lopsided smile. He laid down on his side, turning to offer space for Phil to lay, who rested his raven head on Dan’s chest.

_“I think I’m quite ready for another adventure.”_

Dan looked down at him, smirking.

“Did you seriously just quote _The Hobbit_?”

_“Deal with it.”_

Phil snuggled into Dan’s chest, pulling his blanket up over his shoulders.

“Whelp,”

Dan started, slinging his arm around Phil.

“Allons-y.”

 

 


End file.
